Oh, Ron!
by smilelaughread
Summary: Ron and Hermione are setting up for Halloween. This has (so far) up to story 3/50 for the Halloween Boot Camp Challenge with the prompt(s) "carve", "candy", and more to come. To be a collection of sort-of-connecting drabbles that can each stand alone.
1. Disasters in the Kitchen

_Carve - 2/50 for the Halloween Boot Camp Challenge_

"How am I supposed to do this? How do muggles do this?" Ron looked down at the mess he'd made, eyeing the front of his robe with distaste.

"Oh," Hermione looked at the pumpkin, trying to find something positive. When she couldn't find anything, she gasped, went for the blunt route, and said, "Ron, you've absolutely murdered it!"

He looked at her, expression full of apology. "Is it that bad? I'm sor-"

She grinned at him to communicate that she was amused, setting her glass of water down to move beside him, and he relaxed. "Does it look bad?" Hermione asked patiently.

She waited for a few seconds and saw him nod his head. "Very. It looks very bad. Terrible, actually."

"It's not so bad," she allowed with a grin. "Let me fix it."

"What do you need me to do while you perform surgery on the patient, Doc?"

"You will move away. Far away. And you'll stop watching those awful muggle dramas. And, for goodness' sake, that orange pumpkin..." She struggled for a word.

"Goop?" He supplied helpfully, reaching up to touch his hair with disgust.

"Yes. Goop. The _goop_ clashes horribly with your hair. Do go rinse it out, please."

"I'm a wizard, am I not? I'll spell it out when it dries."

"Do you want me get into bed beside you tonight and ever again?"

He nodded enthusiastically, and she nearly burst into tears of laughter when a droplet of pumpkin juice dripped into his eye. "Ow, ow! Hermione... Ow! Help!"

She picked up the glass of water she'd been drinking from, holding it at the ready. "Open your eye!" Hermione shouted, throwing the water simultaneously.

He reeled back and then blinked, "Well," he said, "It worked. Thank you. Does this mean I don't need a shower?"

"I don't very well want to be sleeping next to a man who smells of pumpkin, do I? Do me a favour - and I guess yourself, too, and wash it out."

He took her not-so-gentle prod and left the room.

Then, she stepped over the puddle that had formed on the floor and eyed the pumpkin.

Now, what could she do to fix the disaster he'd created? A few seconds passed, and something rustled from just outside the kitchen. "Ronald!" She called sharply, "Stop spying. I told you I wouldn't use magic so that we could see who would win, so I won't. Go. Shower."

A sulky, "Fine," reached her ears, and then a mumbled, "How does she do that?"

"I heard that!" Hermione called happily, taking in his subsequent swearing with a sense of glee.

Then she sighed and turned to the pumpkin. It had deserved better, she had to admit. No pumpkin, no matter how small or disfigured, deserved to be quite so... annihilated was certainly not too strong a word. Without letting herself think too much, Hermione put her brain and problem-solving skills to good use and began to fix it up.

A few minutes passed before she heard Ron's thumping footsteps travel down the stairs.

"Wow!" He sounded delighted. "You made an inferi-pumpkin!"

She frowned, cocking her head, and suddenly grinned, "It's supposed to be a zombie. But thank you anyway."

"Do you want me to find the candle that we're going to put in there?"

"Are you asking me for permission on whether you should go and handle fire? Um... no."

"Oh, come on!"

"Fine. But if you burn the house down..." She left the '_again' _and the threat open-ended and he gulped.

"Point taken."

"Now hurry up," she urged, putting the final touches on the masterpiece (if she did say so herself) she'd created. "You don't smell like pumpkin anymore and I believe I'm going to need _a lot of help _washing all this goop off of me."

He gulped, turned as red as his hair, and rushed through the drawers in the kitchen, searching for the candle.

"I'll be upstairs," she said, giggling. "You know what to do with the pumpkin, and I'll be waiting."

Five minutes later, when he still hadn't come up, Hermione, clad in nothing but her bathrobe, opened the window and then stuck her head out to see how Ron was doing with the setup. She wondered if he'd put the jack-o-lantern where she'd wanted it.

Her nose wrinkled at the strong smell of smoke, and she groaned deeply.

"Ronald Billius Weasley!" She thundered. "If you actually burn the house down... I will make you look like the pumpkin did before I fixed it!"

A shouted expletive reached her ears, and she closed the window, satisfied. Then she saw black smoke curl under the door, and shook her head in despair.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake! _Aguamenti_, _aguamenti! _You're sleeping on the couch until I say you can come back! _Aguamenti_," she muttered a smoke-clearing spell. "_Aguamenti!_ You utter moron! _Aguamenti! _Idiot! Imbecile! I _told_ you not to burn the house down again!"

"I love you, too, 'Mione!" His voice barely reached her ears.

"The spell is _Aguamenti_," she reminded, sounding a little hysterical.

There was silence, then, "Oh! Right. Thanks." She shook her head and continued casting spells, wondering if setting the house up for Halloween as she'd done as a child was worth all the hassle.


	2. Stealing Pumpkins

_Candy - 3/50 for the Halloween Boot Camp Challenge at HPFC_

"You're telling me that muggle children go out at night, in the dark, to the houses of strangers, threatening them?" Ron's voice held a bit of awe, and Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry in frustration. They'd been discussing it for going on an hour already.

"Ronald," Hermione began again. "'Trick or treat' is simply a tradition. They're not really going to-" She broke off. Her thoughts had gone off on a strange tangent, a half-forgotten memory.

Ron looked perplexed. "What?"

"One year," she began, a slow smile curling on her face. "I went out with some of my school friends, and a woman refused us candy, saying we were too old or some nonsense like that."

"How old were you?"

"It was the year before Hogwarts."

"Okay, so around ten years-old. And?"

Her eyes glanced at the clock that stood on the counter some ways away. "And what?" The pumpkin pie was baking and she could smell it, the scent heavy on the air. Oh, how she loved the way the house smelled around Halloween.

"She refused you candy..." Ron prompted.

"Oh! We - er, stole her pumpkin after that." Hermione finished with a sheepish look on her face.

"What?" His eyebrows jumped and his mouth popped open in a comical way. He arranged his facial expression into one of disbelief. "You... _you _did that?"

"Oh," Her cheeks flushed. "Don't give me that look. I stole a pumpkin, not their car. Besides, it was funny."

"Not for the poor woman! She was probably devastated."

"She was not devastated! She had about fifteen more lining her lawn."

Ron's hand lifted to his hair, a grimace on his face. "Fifteen? Really and truly, or are you joking?" He snatched his fingers away from the hair that had, in their foray into pumpkin carving, briefly but thoroughly been covered with pumpkin insides. His eye twitched.

"Dead serious, Ron-" She let out a short laugh. "See what I did there? Since it's Halloween..."

"Hmm. Not funny, 'Mione." He shook his head minutely, as though disappointed. If her senses were sharp - and they were - he was also hiding a small smile.

Hermione was not one to back down once she latched onto something. "But it was funny!"

"If you say so."

She let out a huff, but relaxed back into his embrace. "So. What do you wizards do for Halloween?"

"Most Purebloods actually celebrate it in a more religious way. Not much begging for candy goes on. They're too dignified for that. It's more age-old rituals and the like."

A high-pitched giggle escaped her lips. "Can you imagine?"

"Imagine what?"

"Draco Malfoy putting on a costume and going out for candy?"

Ron's hand, which had been rubbing soothing circles on her shoulders, stopped. "Dear Merlin. I think he'd drop dead at the idea. Or wet his pants at all the muggle-contact he'd have to endure. But I guess then you could just do your thing and make him into a... what was it? Zonber?"

"Zombie, Ron. Keep up." He stuck his tongue at her. "Next year, I'll take you out to trick-or-treat, if you want to. So you'll see what all the excitement's about." She looked up expectantly, quickly getting discouraged by his frown.

"Won't they say we're too old?" He asked.

"Hmm..." She shrugged, thinking hard. "Maybe."

"Are you trying to involve me in crime?" His eyes grew wide, and he pulled away to give her a once-over, as though something had shifted about her and he had yet to really notice what. Or come to terms with it.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I'm not going to make you steal any pumpkins. It was a one-time, _funny_ thing. I am not a criminal."

"Yeah, sure. Funny. Because stealing is such a fulfilling, legal activity."

She plowed on as though he hadn't spoken. "Besides, we're wizards. We don't need to look like adults."

"I do like candy." He seemed to be considering the idea.

Hermione's enthusiasm returned. "Are we on, then?"

"Why can't we go this year, though? Halloween's in a few days yet."

"We haven't got costumes," she answered, as though that were the most obvious thing in the world.

Ron shrugged, "Didn't you just remind me that we're wizards? We'll transfigure something, easy."

She dropped her head on his chest and let out a long sigh. "These things take time," she said simply.

"Whatever you say, Hermione."

"That's the spirit," she said, grinning.

"One thing-" Ron pulled away again, ignoring her pouty reaction when he did. "If we get thrown in that jail thing we read about in Auror handbooks," He paused to shiver dramatically, "I'm telling Harry to bail me out."

"What, you'd leave me to all the other prisoners?"

He gave a sharp nod. "And if you steal any pumpkins," he landed a punch on the palm of his hand where it was circled around her, threatening silently.

"Point taken."

"I hope so."

She grinned, "We're very strange together, you know? I think I quite like it-" She broke off when Ron tensed.

"What's that smell?" Ron asked, alarm filling his eyes.

A few seconds passed as they ran through anything that could possibly be burning, reaching the same conclusion at the same time. "The pie!" They shouted in unison, tripping over each other to run to the kitchen.

There was silence that was only broken by the beeping of the stove, and then the pie was pulled out.

"Oh!" Hermione cried out in despair. "It's all... _blackened!"_

"At least I didn't burn the house down again," Ron answered, sounding far too cheerful.

"There's that," she agreed. "Now, where can we find another pumpkin to make pie from, since this isn't fit for eating. How was I so stupid to not have set an alar- Ron, where are you going?"

"You said 'pumpkin' like you wanted to find and carve another one. I don't care to repeat that performance, thanks ever so."

"Practice makes perfect!" She called after his retreating figure. She let out a deep sigh. "Fine! Have it your way. Maybe I'll put that threat I made the other day into action."

He reappeared in the doorway, looking at her warily. "What threat?"

"The one in which you and the sofa get very well acquainted with each other over the course of a few weeks."

He grinned at her, taking in her so-called threatening stance. She had her arms on her hips and a barely-maintained look of anger on her features. He caved despite the weak effort she'd put into looking intimidating, his expression almost pained. "So you were saying something about finding a pumpkin...?"


	3. There's Scary and there's Traumatic

_Cobwebs - 4/50 for the Halloween Boot Camp Challenge at HPFC. Not quite as funny as the others, I think, but I kind of love it. _

"Hermione," Ron whined, something he did not often do. Hermione stopped what she was doing to huff and look at him.

"What, Ron? Can't you see that I am right in the middle of something?" She waved her arms to indicate their house's front porch.

Ron shivered at the reminder and pulled his arms around his torso for protection. "Do you have to put up such... realistic decorations when we aren't even going to be home to hand out candy on the thirty-first? I mean-"

Hermione shushed him, taking a few steps back. "Be quiet," she said roughly, voice fairly choked with emotion. "It is complete! Ron.. I'm done! I had blueprints, plans, color-coordinated charts ready for months and it's-it's finally done!"

Ron, eyeing the scary, flossy wisps of something terrifying coming from above him, took a hesitant step back, only to be caught by Hermione. "Er," he said, far from eloquent, "have I ever mentioned how much I absolutely hate—"

Hermione let out a low sob. Ron's attention shifted from the truly frightening - at least in his opinion - decorations rapidly, and he focused solely on Hermione. What was wrong?

"Hermione?" He finally asked, a little worried. He swallowed hard, "Love?"

She sniffled. "I just... Isn't it lovely?"

He froze, realizing she was simply emotional after having finished the enormous task that had been setting up the house for Halloween. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

She wiped tears from her eyes, turning to look up at him. A cricket sounded off, somewhere in the distance, maybe a few, and Ron wanted desperately to go back indoors. He locked gazes with Hermione, whose water-glazed eyes were reflecting tiny pinpricks of light from the stars, upturned as they were to look at him.

He pulled her in close, shielding her from the chill that had set in early that evening. November could be felt coming, deep in his bones. The heavy cold seeped into him, filling him with a dread that sat uncomfortably in his stomach, though it might have been the front of his house scaring him.

Hermione sighed into him, sounding content and... just happy. Ron tried to relax, and almost could. He felt the warmth of her body make his skin prickle, felt the light flutter of her eyelashes against his throat. Every one of her inhalations was shared by him, each exhalation theirs. Their fingers intertwined, and they were as close as two people could be in front of their house on the street where anyone could see them.

A thousand memories flashed through Ron's mind in a second, of hours upon hours spent holding Hermione close. Sharing warmth, love, kisses, and - quite often - more.

There was just a feeling he couldn't seem to shake.

"Hermione," he said, gentle so as not to startle her from the bubble of euphoria she was living in. "Can we go inside?"

The prickling of thousands of eyes (hopefully imagined, but one could never know) made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Please," he added, after a moment of silence.

She nodded, casting one last glance at those damned Halloween thing she'd put up. Then, they went back inside - in Ron's case, he even ran a little, eager to get away.

"What's wrong?" Hermione didn't do beating around the bush, Ron reflected.

Neither did he. "Did you have to put spiderwebs up?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh, god. Ron, I completely forgot about that whole... thing in second year."

He raises his eyebrows at her.

"Not forgot," she amended, "pushed out of my mind. I'm so sorry. I know you've a thing against spiders."

She saw him shiver, that was how violently he shook.

"I'll take them down first thing tomorrow, I swear," she said.

Ron looked up at her in shock. "But-But, it's one of your family traditions!"

A cleft formed between her eyes, indicating her confusion. "So?"

"So... I had to kill, ahem," he coughed, "carve a pumpkin for you! Because you've been doing it with your family for years. We're going to go trick-or-treating next year. I got us out of that dreadful Ministry function that was scheduled so that we can spend time with your family!"

"You did? Oh, that's wonderful, Ron. Thank you."

He blushed slightly, the tips of his ears reddening in a way that could practically be explained away by the chill of the night. "Harry hates me a little, says we're abandoning him, but..."

She smiled, a sappy, gooey smile that made his insides tingle.

"Thank you," she repeated. "Now, how much fun can we extract from this information I've re-learned?"

"What?" Ron, caught up in his warm, squishy feelings, was confused.

"Spiders," she said.

Ron whimpered, taking a step back. Hermione moved forward and looked him directly in the eye.

"Spiders. Crawling. Tickling."

He nearly mewled, looking terrified. "Minx," he whispered. "Naughty."

"Spiders crawling all over you," she said, forcing him up a step with every word.

"Terrible woman," he said, though his small grin gave him away.

"I've every right to be terrible after you made a mess out of that pumpkin and nearly set us both on fire-"

"Again," Ron filled in. "Yes, I know."

He sighed.

"I love you," she offered.

He met her eye and smirked. "No way is that approach going to work. You said you'd take them down tomorrow. Please do so. I am going to hold you to it. But now..."

She giggled. "Some traditions have to be broken, I guess."

He grinned. "Want to try and start our own tradition? Oh-god, if you mention that _tiny_ fire again..."

She laughed and pushed him into their bedroom. "Why Ron, I would never do such a thing."

A doubtful sound left Ron's lips before they were covered by Hermione's.


End file.
